


Screen Savor

by danceswithgary



Series: Screen Savor [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Photography, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-02
Updated: 2008-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:31:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the perfect setup - a little girl with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a pink tutu. What woman could resist?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screen Savor

[  
Click for Full Size and Wait for Animation](http://pics.livejournal.com/danceswithgary/pic/000etsp7)

_" Am I just not getting the team e-mails anymore?"_

_"Take it easy, Rodney. We're just talking about Rod."_

_"Oh, yes. Well, of course you are."_

_"Do you think he made it back to his universe, Rodney?"_

_"Well, it's hard to say, really, but I doubt he'll be back, though."_

_"That's good. We found him a little, uh, creepy."_

_"What? You...are you saying you didn't like him, Sheppard?"_

_"Me either. I can't stand people who are nice all the time. Makes me feel like they're trying to hide something."_

_"Really, Ronon?"_

_"He kept trying to correct me on my Athosian history. It grew tiresome very quickly."_

_"Well, I guess he wasn't that bad when he wasn't trying to impress Jeannie."_

_"Yeah, let's be honest. Rod was annoying."_

It was almost five weeks after the annoyingly perfect Dr. 'Call me Rod' McKay returned to his universe when John began to notice that his Rodney had changed. In fact, if not for the women clustered two rows deep around Rodney's laptop, while they made noises sounding disturbingly close to giggling and _cooing_, John might have remained oblivious even longer.

The situation was unique enough to have John checking to make sure he'd strapped on his gun that morning, just in case some new Ancient device had been activated and Rodney had ended up in the middle of a bizarre feeding...or even worse...mating frenzy. John knew from experience that some of those female scientists were predatory and could be positively _vicious_ when denied their prey. He'd taken a few hits on that front himself, but he guessed he had no one to blame but himself for not learning what to avoid. Even after years of belatedly sidestepping propositions, he still never saw it coming. Highly aware of the potential for bloodletting, figuratively if not literally, he didn't relax until he heard Rodney speaking in a sardonically amused tone from somewhere in front of the wall of women.

"...and this one is from last Christmas. There's a funny story about those extra-rosy cheeks on Jolly Old Saint Nick. It seems that Kaleb insisted Madison needed to have her picture taken with Santa, so Jeannie took her to see one of those imposters at the mall. Jeannie said Madison had faux-Santa tied up in knots and turning purple trying to answer her questions about how he could fold space in order to fit down undersized chimneys. When the kids in line started to cry, Jeannie ended up with a free photo...and a politely worded request not to return."

_"Neprekvapi."_ A quiet chuckle at John's elbow alerted him to Radek's presence. "There could be no doubt that this Madison is a McKay." John nodded in bemused agreement as Radek whispered his observations, "McKay and children and no berating. The mind is boggled."

The smug pride in Rodney's voice was unmistakable, and John found himself idly wondering what he would have to do before his friend would describe John in the same matter-of-factly proprietary tones. Solving one of the Millennium Prize Problems came to mind, but therein lurked the dangerous possibility of Rodney-type intellectual jealousy, and John concluded regular deliveries of the good coffee would be a better or _safer_ choice. After all, Rodney always seemed happy whenever John brought him a cup after a long night in the lab, and he usually remembered to thank John, which was a rare occurrence for anyone else.

Despite being blocked from seeing the exact details, John had already realized what was captivating the women, and that it wasn't Rodney's scintillating conversation. He'd actually been in Rodney's room, waiting for him to finish fixing the latest oh-my-god-everyone-is-going-to-die-from-something-that-could only-happen-on-Atlantis emergency so they could sneak off to play the Game, when the fateful email had arrived from Jeannie. At first, Rodney had been completely baffled as to why he'd been sent a picture of Madison in her recital costume, but when John had reminded him about Rod and his wallet full of niece and nephews...he'd caught on pretty fast.

"So, women really like this sort of thing."

John hadn't really been paying a lot of attention to Rodney's latest venture into understanding the feminine psyche because he'd been distracted by Hallona's latest attempt at negotiating a treaty with Geldar and trying to understand how he'd managed to lose that plot of land on the northeastern border. As a result, he'd shrugged and absently agreed, "Sure, Rodney. Women _love_ that kind of stuff."

Not long after that, Rodney had proudly displayed _his_ niece's photo at a mission briefing, and John would be willing to swear he'd _seen_ the wheels turning inside Rodney's head as the scientist calculated the number of fond looks he'd received from Teyla and Elizabeth and extrapolated based on Atlantis' current male-female ratio. Armed with his hypothesis, Rodney had obviously gone back to the source for more ammunition and, based on the current response, John had to admit that Rodney's genius was shining through once more.

It was the perfect setup...family photos of a little girl with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a pink tutu. What woman could resist? John could easily imagine the sound of exploding ovaries echoing across Atlantis, and resigned himself to cutting back on visits to the lab and playing video golf with Tiger Woods for the next few weeks.

~*~*~

_"So, Jeannie, do you have three kids in this universe?"_

_"No. Just the one."_

_"Hunh. Well, I'm sure you're as great a mother in this space-time as you are in mine. Oh! This'll blow your mind. I have photographs of your alternate life. Wanna see pictures of the kids you haven't had yet?"_

When the daily visits by women in desperate search of cute slackened off to the occasional polite query, John had expected Rodney's scheme to be relegated to the nice-idea-but-failed-in-practice pile, but oddly enough, Rodney had upgraded his dalliance with photography to an obsession...one with accessories and accomplices.

"We're done? So I'd...um...pictures?" Rodney's faltering question halted the other meeting attendees in their tracks, his uncharacteristic diffidence leaving John feeling as unsettled as the others obviously did. "That is to say...my sister, Jeannie asked for pictures of the team. And Carson and Elizabeth, of course." He held up a small rectangular object, a silver case small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and waited for the verdict with an anxious look in his eyes.

"Of course, Rodney. You may take as many photographs as you like." The others quickly echoed Teyla's smiling assurance, and John was glad to see Rodney's shoulders relax from a posture remarkably similar to the one he assumed when facing large men with spears...or small children with arrows.

"Excellent!" Rodney grinned as he jumped up from his seat at the table with camera and laptop in hand. He collected everyone, with a slightly impatient moue at their shocked immobility, and waved them toward the nearest balcony. "I was thinking outside? If we arrange it carefully, no one will be able to tell where the picture was taken."

Elizabeth nodded approvingly, ever the diplomat. "Excellent point, Rodney."

A few minutes later, after the jostling and rearranging, along with a fair amount of grumbling, had ceased, Rodney stood in front of the group with his camera held high and prompted, "OK, everyone. Say cheese!"

Ronon's gruff response was decidedly puzzled, "Cheese? Why? Are you hungry?"

"That's just what you say when you want people to smile," Elizabeth explained with a patient smile of her own.

Teyla shook her head in disagreement. "Cheese does not make me smile, Rodney. I have found it causes me stomach discomfort."

"I like cheese, especially the green kind that we get from M5C-039," Ronon offered.

John, despite sensing an imminent explosion, couldn't resist adding, "Oh, hey, that's the one that smells like kiwi fruit, but tastes like...."

With a slightly impatient edge to her voice, Elizabeth stepped in. "Focus, everyone. I have another meeting in a few minutes."

Rodney huffed and trained the camera on the group once more. "Fine. If you don't want to say 'cheese', then say 'tava beans.' Everyone likes tava beans, right?"

Still feeling a little guilty about shooting his best friend while under the influence of malfunctioning Wraith technology, John manfully refrained from rolling his eyes and thereby ruining the shot. "Sure, Rodney. Tava beans. Got it."

Fourteen pictures later, after a great deal of grumbling about his subjects, alternate choices in foodstuffs, and multiple shifts in position, everyone in the group managed to face the camera at the same time with something approaching a smile, although 'tava beans' gritted out through clenched teeth didn't quite have the same effect as a hearty 'cheese.' Rodney viewed the latest result with satisfaction and decided to attempt one with himself and his team, but Elizabeth insisted she was already late for her meeting.

Carson took one look at the camera Rodney tried to hand to him and bolted with a flimsy excuse about patients waiting for him in the infirmary.

After Rodney announced his intention to draft Chuck as photographer, Teyla and Ronon suddenly recalled appointments with Marines requiring beatings and disappeared back inside, relief all too evident in their body language. Feeling the tiniest bit guilty about ruining a shot by making rabbit ears behind Ronon...twice...John patted Rodney's slumped shoulder, declaring with hearty, almost-believable confidence, "It'll be better the next time."

"Oh, like there'll even be a next time with this group. No, I'll just have to think of something else." The determined look in Rodney's eyes as he stomped toward his lab left John with a distinctly uneasy feeling, which he dismissed after a moment with his usual shrug. John's mother had once filled albums with photos she'd taken; pages and pages of landscapes, flowers and people. It was nothing he needed to worry about, just Rodney with his personal camera.

Of course, he was willing to concede he'd been a trifle optimistic when he saw Rodney's new screensaver. He'd constructed a slideshow displaying candids and poses of Ronon sparring, Teyla meditating, Elizabeth overlooking the gate room, Katie Brown holding a cactus, and even one of Carson feeding his mice. Rodney had mixed in the ill-fated team photos along with the pictures sent by Jeannie, but John couldn't help noticing that he was otherwise missing from the lineup. While John had never been one to keep pictures around and had left his mother's albums behind in storage, he didn't understand why he hadn't been included, and it left him feeling a little like the last kid picked to play kickball.

Worse yet, Ronon was _not_ at all happy about the bunny ears.

~*~*~

_"Jeannie? This is your brother, Rodney ... obviously! I want to s...say, um...I want to say something. Uh...family is important. I...I've come to realize that because the people here have become a sort of a...kind of a surrogate family to me. Now, I know what you're thinking; I've never really been the poster child for that kind of sentiment but, uh, when...when one's contemplating one's own demise, one tends to see things more clearly. I really do wish you the best, you know, and I'm sorry we weren't closer. Perhaps, um...if by chance I make it out of this, perhaps one day we can be, and I would like that."_

When John took the time to think about it, he came to realize that he was at least partially responsible for the turnaround in the relationship between Jeannie and Rodney. By sharing Rodney's taped message he'd shown Jeannie a side of Rodney that he normally kept well-hidden from almost everyone. Rodney's heartfelt plea for understanding and forgiveness for his shortcomings would have remained hidden from John as well, if he hadn't found the recording while packing up Ford's possessions.

At first, John had found Rodney's pompous observations irritatingly amusing, but that had gradually faded under the scientist's increasingly disjointed ramblings. It had been painfully clear that the crushing fatigue of days without sleep, as well as the overwhelming futility of his efforts to save Atlantis, had left Rodney vulnerable to sentiment he would have otherwise scorned.

It was that same vulnerability that had slipped through when he'd arrived in John's room overwhelmed by his frustration with the alternate Rodney McKay. Although he'd listened, John had only said a word or two as he diligently cleaned non-existent dirt and grass stains from golf clubs that hadn't touched a golf course in years and let Rodney babble to his own conclusion. It was a strategy that he'd developed over the years, one that usually proved highly effective when combined with the firm 'McKay!' he applied whenever Rodney got lost in the details. Working yet again, it had granted John the time to come up with his own solution to the rift, compensation for his laughter at Rodney's childhood angst, although he defied anyone not to giggle at that one story about the cat, the bicycle, and the chocolate-chip cookie dough.

He just hoped Jeannie would keep her promise not to tell Rodney that she'd seen the recording. Although he knew Rodney had a hidden soft side, there was no guarantee John wouldn't end up suffering arctic temperatures in his quarters _for years_ if Rodney ever found out what he'd done.

John had felt little safer from the threat of icebergs when he'd been the first to see the one-of-a-kind picture Jeannie had scanned and sent to Rodney. Madison had drawn a portrait of her family using the new box of crayons Rodney had ordered at John's suggestion. The carefully colored artwork portrayed the three Millers grouped in front of their house with waving hands and wide smiles, but the best part of the picture, in John's opinion, was the solitary stick figure standing at the edge of the paper and bearing the label of 'Uncle Mer' in tidy block letters.

When he'd opened the attachment to show John, Rodney had huffed and insisted that it was Jeannie's evil sense of humor that had resulted in a salmon-pink Uncle Mer in bright contrast to navy-blue Kaleb, forest-green Jeannie, and a Madison resplendent in glittery lavender. The picture had still ended up in a starring role in the ever-expanding slideshow, notwithstanding the despised name and offensive color.

It'd been startling when Rodney raided John's desk and snatched up a detailed sketch of an Osprey, which John had doodled during one of many yawn-inducing meetings, and ordered John to sign it. When John had hesitated, Rodney had reluctantly explained that Madison wanted him to send a drawing back to her and, having no talent of his own, he was borrowing John's to scan instead. Rodney had admitted he probably would have ignored his niece's demands in the past, but he'd been feeling guilty about never making it up to Vancouver to visit while temporarily exiled on Earth due to certain ungrateful Ancients. He'd considered himself fortunate that he'd caught sight of John's impromptu artwork.

Surprised by the warm flush of pleasure that rose at the implied compliment, John had started to initial his work in the corner. Rodney had stopped him and, uncharacteristically shy, suggested he write, "To Madison from Uncle John." John had needed to swallow more than once before he could manage to choke out an "OK," and had scribbled out a surprisingly clear message despite the sudden blurriness in his vision.

John had never seen the original sketch again, but he'd noticed the scanned copy in the laptop lineup. Somehow, just knowing Rodney had asked _him_ for help on a family issue...not Teyla, who usually handled all that touchy-feely stuff for the team...almost made up for the dearth of John pictures on Rodney's screensaver.

Almost.

~*~*~

_"How are you? Are you happy, Jeannie? Are you OK?"_

_"Yeah, Mer. I am. I really am."_

_"Intergalactic gate network should be completed soon, so, um, maybe it won't be four years next time?"_

_"Does this mean I'll see you at Christmas?"_

_"If you can convince Kaleb not to make tofurkey."_

_"No promises!"_

John had been pleasantly surprised by Rodney's assumption that he'd be spending Christmas with him at his sister's house. After Jeannie departed Atlantis on the Daedalus, John had encountered Rodney moping along a corridor and asked what was wrong, since it had seemed as though the two siblings had reached some sort of detente by the time she'd left. He'd overheard them that last night and, at Rodney's confession that he'd agreed to spending Christmas in Vancouver and was already dreading facing his family alone, John had stepped forward and volunteered to take his six.

He'd thought he'd killed that possibility after being caught joking with Teyla about refusing to dead-stick a space shuttle to the ground if it had been Rodney stuck in a containment field. He'd turned around still laughing and Rodney had been standing there holding a tray of food for Teyla, the dark flash of hurt behind the blue of his eyes quickly disguised by the self-mocking twist of his lips. Teyla had smiled and thanked Rodney sweetly, while John had slunk away feeling about six inches high.

After nearly losing Rodney to the ascension machine, John had resolved to curb his natural tendency to jab at him, but he'd quickly fallen back into the habit after they'd found out their Ancient game of Civilization...wasn't, and the resulting fallout. Since Rodney usually gave as good as he got, John hadn't felt too badly about their verbal sparring up until that 'joke,' but there were lines and he'd crossed one.

Christmas at the Millers sounded like just what the doctor ordered for a slightly bruised friendship.

~*~*~

_"John was kind enough to show me around, offer me a warm meal, and introduce me to some of your friends."_

_"What have you told them, Jeannie?"_

_"We weren't talking about you, Rodney."_

_"Oh, you weren't?"_

_"Uh, no. Your friends and I were discussing many things."_

_"Now, when the issue of bedwetting happened to come up, she may have mentioned something about your childhood."_

_"That is not true!"_

_"Relax. We all have embarrassing childhood stories."_

_"Of course we do, Rodney. Even Athosian children have their share of problems."_

_"There was one time the school bullies made me eat lunch with my underwear on my head."_

_"On Sateda?"_

_"Oh, wait. That was you, McKay."_

_"Oh, har-de-har-har. And this is revenge for what, exactly?"_

_"You don't even know, do you, Mer?"_

"I can't believe she still has these!"

John looked up in curiosity, the note of pleased surprise in Rodney's voice stealing his attention from the pile of stuffed animals that Madison had dumped in his lap preparatory to introducing each one to her Uncle John. In the past, that particular sound had equated to the mess serving chocolate cake two nights in a row, or discovering Radek's latest hiding place for coffee, and John was extremely interested in finding out what could possibly produce such glee in a four-year-old's room.

"These books are mine! See! I signed my name in them so that Jeannie would quit trading her ripped ones for mine." Stretching out from his cross-legged collapse on the rug beside the bed, Rodney handed John one of the books he'd pulled from Madison's bookcase, pointing to the inside cover. The proof was there, slightly crooked capitals proudly spelling out 'Meredith Rodney McKay' in a smear of black ink.

Flipping the blank first page, John checked the title. "You used to read Dr. Suess?"

"Why wouldn't I?" It seemed as if Rodney couldn't decide whether to act puzzled or insulted by John's question.

John shrugged and admitted, "I guess I would have thought you'd have gone beyond 'The Cat In The Hat' by the time you were two and were already reading...I don't know...'The Martian Chronicles' or something."

"Hey, I had a semi-normal childhood up to a point." Rodney snatched back the book and began flipping through the pages, grumbling, "My mom would buy me a book as a reward for behaving whenever we visited my great-aunt Harriet."

"Your mother actually bribed you?"

Rodney huffed at John's tone of disbelief. "I guess you'd have to have seen Aunt Harriet to understand why. She was sort of like Margaret Thatcher, only creepier. Same hairstyle and facial structure, only my aunt was much taller with a gruff voice...and remarkably hirsute. Oddest thing...she had to shave twice a day and, if I remember correctly, she chewed tobacco."

There was a ghost of a grin hovering at the corner of Rodney's mouth when he glanced up at John. "It was either that or roofing nails. She was _really_ scary at that age." He traced the letters of his name, the childish writing oddly delicate under blunt-nailed fingers that had saved a city more than once. "She was gone, cancer I think, by the time Jeannie was old enough be terrorized. As usual, Jeannie got what she wanted just by being Jeannie, and then she tried to steal mine, too."

Wishing he had more insight from his own dimly recalled childhood, John offered, "Maybe she just wanted to be like her big brother."

Madison, who'd been following the discussion with only casual interest, piped up. "Read a book to me, Uncle Mer!" She scrambled across the floor to the bookcase and yanked another one free. "This one!"

"You're sure this one isn't a little young for you?" questioned Rodney, as Madison made herself comfortable in his lap. When she shook her head emphatically, he sighed and turned to the title page. "Let's begin, shall we? 'One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish' by Dr. Suess."

Stretching out across the toy-strewn floor with a grin, John propped his head up with a crooked elbow and settled in to enjoy something no one else on Atlantis would ever share. His bemused wonder only increased when the cadence of childhood memories mutated subtly in French. Madison giggled at her uncle's translation, smiling as she pointed to each simple word.

John pretended to be unimpressed when Rodney glanced up halfway through the book to gauge his reaction. Although Rodney's widened eyes were a familiar signal that he'd solved another puzzle, John was still caught off-guard by his switch to more guttural syllables.

Madison lost no time in calling Rodney to task. "Uncle Mer! What's that? Bear talk?"

She shrieked with laughter, wiggling and kicking when Rodney's fingers found a ticklish spot as he growled, "Yes, a Russian bear!"

Drawn like a bee to honey, John rolled to his knees and crawled over to join the tickle fest, his guffaws soon drowning out the other two, as he was tag-teamed by uncle and niece. Shortly thereafter, Madison retreated to the safety of her bed to cheer on the two men as they wrestled and hooted insults amidst widely scattered toys.

Gasping with laughter, John finally submitted to Rodney, pinned by his weight at hips and hands. Rodney straddled John's upper thighs and leaned forward in triumph, his wide grin and bright eyes telegraphing a wild delight John had never before witnessed in his friend.

Suddenly, John found it impossible to catch his breath.

Rodney's face began to change, the triumph softening into something John was finding difficult to comprehend, the pink tip of his tongue moistening his crooked lips.

"Meredith Rodney McKay! Are you teaching my daughter how to _fight_!"

Jeannie's screech launched Rodney to his feet before he could speak, leaving John lying on the floor baffled by what maybe...possibly...might have almost happened...and trying desperately to decide if he was thankful for the interruption.

~*~*~

_"Hello, Mrs. Miller. I'm Doctor Elizabeth Weir. Welcome to Atlantis."_

_"Thank you. And you must be John Sheppard. Mer's told me so much about you."_

_"All good, I hope...wait, did you just call him 'Mer'?"_

_"Uh, it...it's a pet name, Sheppard. You know, just one of those annoying sibling things. Right, Jeannie? Come on. Let me show you the lab."_

Tucked in a corner of the couch, John stretched carefully, trying not to disturb Madison, who'd fallen asleep in his lap. Abandoned by Kaleb and Jeannie for post-holiday sales, they'd been coloring pictures together, that is to say, John had colored while the little girl, who'd refused to nap, relaxed against his chest and directed which crayon he needed to use...until her chirping dwindled into soft regular breathing. Relaxing back into the cushions, John grinned as he studied the abandoned coloring book where a sponge wearing pants walked along a sandy beach, the ocean a blue-green that could never match reality.

A memory of waves floated through his drowsing mind, and he mused over how he used to miss the ocean and how odd it was that he needed to travel to another galaxy to end up living by one. He hummed a few bars of a half-remembered tune as he fingered a waxy crayon, and Bobby Darrin's voice drifted in his mind crooning about 'la mer' and 'ships that go sailing.'

_La mer_. The French words conjured up a hazy vision of Mer, the man he was learning more about every day. John winced a little as he recalled teasing Rodney when Jeannie had told the team why she called Rodney, 'Mer' but it hadn't taken long for John to feel like one of the bullies who'd tormented Rodney growing up, especially with Rodney's growing agitation over the alternate him.

The name hadn't meant anything to John; he'd only known Rodney in Atlantis, not Mer. That had slowly changed during their stay with the Millers. He'd learned that Mer was the man who sipped from empty tea cups and gobbled invisible cookies and declared everything magically delicious to a giggling little girl. Mer played Christmas songs on the keyboard that had appeared one day, carols replete with extravagant flourishes and arpeggios, despite his initial pompous declaration that the music and words were sentimental tripe.

Mer was the brother who argued with his sister until she hugged the disagreement out of him, ranting non-stop until he deflated and hugged her back and kissed her temple with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks and chagrin in his blue eyes. Rodney never allowed people to venture past the razor-edged snark to what he'd hidden in his depths, while Mer revealed the buried treasure beneath waves of bluster, his sharp edges smoothed like an ocean-tumbled piece of glass you might find washed up on a beach.

Then there was the faintly disturbing Mer, the one who'd looked down at John as if he were about to say something...important...before Jeannie interrupted their...whatever the hell that had been in Madison's room. John was pretty sure that had been Mer...not Rodney...that day, at least not the same Rodney who'd forsaken Madison and John for a long-distance argument with Colonel Samantha Carter, armed with his laptop and determination.

Still lost in thought, John heard a sound and looked up to see the absent man standing in the doorway of the kitchen, as if summoned by his unspoken name. Noticing that he'd drawn John's attention, Mer lowered the camera that had been his constant companion and smiled lazily, blue eyes soft and warm. As he returned the smile, an equally soft greeting slipped free from John without thought or volition. "Hey, Mer."

Rodney's smile disappeared in an instant, raw pain surfacing in darkened eyes for the briefest moment before vanishing with a lifted chin and a sharp, "Don't, Sheppard" before his strategic retreat into the kitchen. Jolted out of his reverie, John carefully shifted Madison to the couch and covered her with an afghan before chasing Mer...Rodney...to ground.

Ignoring John's intrusion beyond the borders of his default refuge, Rodney rummaged through the cupboards, finally pulling out coffee filters, a bag of French roast, and caramel syrup. As he assembled the makings of his comfort drink, Rodney's hands took on the sure, steady movements that had always fascinated John whenever he watched Rodney piecing together Ancient technology in his lab. He'd often sat contentedly for hours watching him disassemble and reassemble the bits of wire and crystal that he'd then hand to John to activate.

With Rodney's back to him, it almost felt like the times they'd spent concealed behind their game consoles, trading insults and stories without worrying about hurting each other by accidentally saying the wrong thing and then seeing it in the other's face. There had been something safe and warm about that darkened room, the two of them sharing a secret, and John suddenly realized he'd been with Mer during those times...and he missed that feeling. He missed _him_, and he wanted that friend back.

Leaning against the opposite counter, John attempted to apologize. "Look, I'm sorry. I guess I thought...I mean you don't mind when Jeannie and...."

Rodney's shoulders hunched as if John's halting words had wounded him. "She calls me that because that's what she grew up with, not because she's mocking me. I...I can...it's OK when she and Madison and Kaleb call me that because it's family, you know?"

John understood that 'Rodney' was the name that shielded 'Mer' from the world that didn't understand him. Even Kaleb had used 'Rodney' when talking to him directly, although he referred to him as 'Uncle Mer' with Madison. That had changed during their current visit, and the name 'Rodney' had made fewer and fewer appearances in the Miller household, John the odd man out.

John decided to try to explaining why he'd used the name, hoping to mend the latest tear in the fabric of their friendship. "I wasn't mocking you, really. I think it's kind of cool that you have a name only certain people use and...." John halted in embarrassment, waiting for Rodney to supply a hint on how to continue.

Rodney didn't hand John very much to go on. "And?"

Rubbing the back of his neck in frustration, John blurted out, "You know, I looked 'Meredith' up and it means 'protector of the sea' and _I_ think it sort of fits you. There you are, living on Atlantis in the middle of an ocean and protecting it by keeping it running when anyone else would have failed ten times over...and...and...you even saved your whale friend and his family."

Rodney waved away the reference to the alien Sam, admitting, "That thing with the shield and the ZPM was actually your idea."

"But _you_ made it happen. You're actually kind of lucky in an odd sort of way. I ended up with a name I shared with at least three or four kids in every class I took."

"At least it was a boy's name."

"Hey, I get that it was tough for you growing up, and that I'm guilty of making fun of you when I first heard it, but I'm not laughing anymore." John dropped his head and sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again, _Rodney_."

"Mer."

John's head jerked back up in surprise. "What?"

"When we're here, or when it's just you and me, it's OK, _John_. You're...I mean not that you're family really, certainly not my brother...I consider you...I mean to say...." Rodney's hands waved in the air as if attempting to conjure the right words to describe their relationship. It was classic Rodney...and John wanted Mer back.

Circling Rodney's wrists with gentle fingers, John calmed the flailing and murmured, "It's OK. I got it. We're friends."

"The best." Rodney's voice had firmed, no longer strained to the breaking point.

Distracted by the flutter of Rodney's pulse against his fingers, John kept his response simple and to the point. "Yeah, _Mer_. The best."

"Uncle John? Uncle Mer? Can I have a cookie?" Madison's childish tones startled John into releasing Rodney from his grip, a flush burning across his cheeks when he realized how it might have looked to anyone walking in. What disturbed him more was his flash of anger over the feeling that it was something he'd needed to hide.

Meanwhile, although Rodney's color was also a little high, he'd recovered quickly, disguising any embarrassment with a hearty, "Of course! I'm feeling a bit peckish myself. What say we pretend to be pirates hunting for buried treasure and find that tin your Mommy hid from us?"

John slowly relaxed against the counter and kept watch as the pirates plundered the kitchen and shared their booty. As he listened to Madison's giggles, John couldn't help feeling thankful that she'd walked in when she did, because he wasn't exactly sure what would have happened next in Jeannie Miller's kitchen. He did, however, know one thing for certain about whatever it was that they might have ended up doing.

He definitely wasn't ready.

~*~*~

_"So, are you going to marry that Katie girl?"_

_"What?"_

_"You heard me."_

_"Jeannie! Where did that come from?"_

_"I'm trying to make conversation while also trying not to resent the fact that it's taken so many years for you to try to get along with me and my family. So, are you going to marry her?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"She's the only one you've ever mentioned dating, Mer."_

_"I'm aware of that, thank you!"_

_"You really think you're going to find someone better...?"_

_"No, it's not that."_

_"...because you're not!"_

_"Hang on..."_

_"The fact that you found a nice girl who's willing to put up with all your many little flaws is a miracle."_

_"Look..."_

_" Plus, physically you're...well, how do I put this? You're no John Sheppard."_

_"OK. Let's go back to talking about how much I've neglected you, because I think I liked that better._

John had discovered early on that the bunks at Midway Station weren't good for much beyond lying awake and wishing that you were leaving within minutes for your final destination. The trip back to Atlantis after a week at the Millers' house was no exception.

The conversation he'd overheard between Jeannie and Rodney, the night before they'd left, hadn't helped matters. Rodney had walked out of the kitchen looking as if someone the size of Ronon had kicked him in the gut several times, and John couldn't offer any sympathy without revealing what he'd heard. The potential embarrassment had outweighed the comfort value on both sides.

Although John had heard Rodney pacing in the room next to his until well after midnight, it had seemed as though he'd been able to put Jeannie's admonitions behind him and enjoy their final day together. John could only hope that it would continue to be the case, because having Rodney feeling as though he was lacking in a comparison with John was not a comfortable situation.

Tired of staring at the dull gray of the ceiling, John levered himself off the rock-hard mattress and headed for the miniscule galley in search of a snack. He smiled when he caught sight of Rodney, who'd obviously had the same idea and was already seated at one of the few tables with coffee and laptop close at hand.

Grabbing a bottle of water and small bag of chips, John slid into the chair next to Rodney and nudged him with a friendly elbow. "Hey, Mer, what's your high score at FreeCell?" He grinned at the harsh glare that softened when Rodney recognized the intruder as friend, not foe.

"Just organizing the pictures I took before we get back. I'll be lucky if I have a minute to myself for days while I clean up whatever messes those idiots made while I was gone." Angling the screen in John's direction, Rodney allowed him to peer over his shoulder as he rearranged the photos for his screen saver.

"Oh, I didn't see you taking those." John pointed to a series of shots obviously captured when he and Madison were collaborating on Christmas ornaments. He winced at the thought of Rodney sharing the 'John Sheppard Glitter Experience' with the rest of Atlantis, even if Madison had been wearing most of it. He was afraid he still had the stuff inside his _boxers_ from when she'd spilled an entire tube on his lap, not to mention his discovery of glitter's tendency to migrate in the wash.

It was clear from Rodney's chuckling that he had no intention of missing the opportunity to share John's vacation adventures. "Oh, I have any number of pictures you've never seen, _Colonel Barbie_."

"You wouldn't!"

"What's it worth to you?"

"C'mon, Mer. You're messing with my credibility. My Marines would never let me live it down!"

Rodney dismissed John's complaint with a shrug. "Like it's any surprise that you're the biggest kid on Atlantis. Surfboard, skateboard, football on the mainland with the Athosians, model planes...the list goes on and on."

John couldn't hold back a groan. "Mer..._dolls_."

"All right, I'll make a deal. All three 'Back To The Future' movies come out of movie night rotation for...a year, and the Barbie pictures never make the slideshow."

"You drive a hard bargain. I was prepared to fork over massive amounts of chocolate."

"Oh, but I haven't shown you...."

John had never witnessed such an evil grin on Rodney's face before, and he couldn't help wondering if there wasn't a bit of indirect payback involved for Jeannie's 'you're no John Sheppard' remark. He held up his hands in defeat. "OK, you win. No embarrassing pictures and you get the pick of my stash."

Rodney scrubbed his hands in a traditionally villainous fashion. "Ah, the sweet taste of victory."

John wisely limited his response to a muttered, "Only for as long as it takes for me to confiscate that camera, Mer. Permanently."

In truth, John was too happy with the renewed ease in each other's company to resent the loss of his chocolate or even his dignity. He nudged Rodney's elbow and pointed to the screen. "Come on, I want to see the rest."

They spent the next hour or so reviewing pictures and retelling stories until a yawn caught John by surprise. "I guess that's my signal to call it a night." He'd been holding on in the hope of finally seeing some pictures of him, by himself, no one else standing or sitting nearby. Just John Sheppard...alone...but they'd all been combinations of the Millers, Rodney, and John. Hiding his disappointment, John shoved his chair back from the table, and tossed his empty bottle into the trash bin as he stood. "Great pictures and a good time. I'm really glad you asked me to come along."

Rodney snapped his laptop closed before he rose to his feet with a groan. "Unnh, stiff from sitting." He turned into John and tipped his head back with a shy smile. "I...I'm really glad you came...came with me...uh...." A blush raced across Rodney's cheeks and he took a step back. "That is...it was good to have you along...for backup."

John grinned at Rodney's fumbling and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, buddy." After an affectionate shake, he released Rodney, detoured around him and ambled toward the door with a wave. "Tomorrow, Mer."

He was halfway down the corridor when he heard rapid footsteps behind him. "Colonel...I mean...John, wait up. Uh, about...you know...the name thing...?"

Halting in front of his temporary quarters, John pivoted and held up his hand to stem the flood of words. "Don't worry, _Mer_. It's just between you and me."

Nodding in evident relief, Rodney agreed, "Right. Just family and certain...um...friends. Good. That's good."

"Goodnight, Mer. See you in the morning."

John kept his smile in place until the door shut behind him and he was back in his bunk, and refused to think about missing pictures or to consider which other _friends_ Rodney might grant the privilege of calling him 'Mer.'

~*~*~

_"It's funny, you know? I mean, much as I hate to admit it, seeing my little sister so happy with her family, I just ... Well, it kind of made me realize that, uh ... well, I'd like to get married."_

_"You would?"_

_"Oh, no, not to you, Katie!"_

_"Oh."_

_"Look, I was just...I mean that was not a proposal. I was just...I was just talking, you know?"_

_"Right. Of course, you were."_

_"I just don't want you to get the wrong.... It's not that I wouldn't be interested in...in...in getting married to someone, I mean, someone I could spend the rest of my life with, I mean it might be someone just like you...you even, maybe one day. I just, uh..."_

_"I know, I know. It's OK."_

_"I like you a lot, Katie. I mean, I do."_

_"I know you do, Rodney, and I like you a lot too."_

_"I know. And to be honest, I find that just baffling."_

_"Come on, now..."_

_"No...it's other people too...they find it baffling, too."_

_"I guess they just don't know you like I know you."_

_"A little tough to claim that when it's your own sister saying it. You see, that's what scares me. I mean, at some point, you're gonna know me the way they know me and then...."_

_"Rodney, I think I know you pretty well. There's not a lot of subtext with you."_

Torn between feeling guilty about overhearing Rodney discussing private matters _again_ and pleased that he wasn't rushing into marriage after Jeannie's blatant shove toward domesticity, John had backed out of the lab without making a sound. Katie and Rodney had never looked in his direction, both too involved in their awkward discussion to notice they'd been under observation.

That had been two weeks earlier. With the conspicuous absence of Katie anywhere in Rodney's immediate vicinity since then, John had to assume there had been a more serious discussion after the little he'd overheard. Rodney hadn't said a word to John about breaking up with her, had simply continued acting as usual in the labs and in the field, the rapport they'd built on vacation still solidly in place. John had briefly considered bringing up the subject himself, but then decided he was satisfied with how well everything was working between them, both Rodney and Mer.

John lost that easy satisfaction when he attended the Athosian harvest festival with Teyla and Ronon. Rodney had begged off, claiming he needed to finish a project, half-heartedly teasing John about playing Kirk for the Athosian women who'd tried to monopolize John's time at the previous festival. They were scheduled to stay overnight on the mainland but, as the day wore on, John's patience wore thinner each time he turned to say something to Rodney and he wasn't there.

"I can imagine what Rodney would be saying about all the women who have asked you to join them at fire, John. I believe the name 'Kirk' would be mentioned at least once." Teyla's teasing was gentle as she took a seat beside John to watch Ronon dance, her hand on John's shoulder soft and warm.

John stiffened as he recalled the conversation he'd overheard on Earth and realized how his popularity would have driven home Jeannie's cutting observation. "Then I guess it's a good thing for me that he decided not to come along." His attempt to keep the banter going failed, the lump in his throat making it hard to continue in a light vein. "Although, it has been a while since he's accused me of taking advantage of alien priestesses. I almost miss it."

Teyla nodded and smiled in agreement. "I find that I am missing Rodney myself. I cannot help wondering why he would choose to stay behind when he has always accompanied us before."

"I have a feeling I know why." John closed his eyes and sighed as he realized he'd said that aloud. He knew he was going to have to explain what he'd meant to Teyla or suffer the consequences the next time they sparred. "It was something Rodney's sister said to him when we were there. They didn't know I could hear them...it wasn't very nice."

"What'd she say?" John jumped as Ronon's gruff tones interrupted. "She was kind of tough on him when she was here, not that he didn't deserve it, I guess."

"Listen, you can't...if he finds out I...." John was regretting saying anything about Jeannie and Rodney, visualizing Rodney's face when he heard his life had been laid out for dissection.

Ronon clapped John's shoulder with a heavy hand. "He's team, Sheppard. It doesn't go any further."

"Please, John, help us understand." Teyla's voice was low and sweetly persuasive, and John stopped resisting.

"She advised Rodney to settle for Katie Brown because he'd never find anyone else who'd be able to put up with him." John shook his head in disbelief as he remembered Jeannie's gibe. "She also pointed out that he didn't look like me."

John had no trouble hearing Ronon's growl, but Teyla's gasp was almost inaudible. "Now, what I have noticed recently is beginning to make sense, John." She sighed before continuing, "Rodney no longer feels as if he can...compete."

Unable to sit any longer, John jumped to his feet to pace, blurting out, "It's stupid, really. I know there are women that would...."

Ronon and Teyla exchanged exasperated looks before Teyla interjected, "John, Ronon and I believe that the situation is reversed."

"Reversed?"

"Perhaps you should think about what you've told us while you fly back to Atlantis tonight." Teyla's meticulous phrasing made it clear that the unscheduled trip was a given. "With the right _persuasion_, Rodney might be convinced to join his team for tomorrow's festivities." When John stopped pacing to look at her in surprise, she tilted her head and smiled. "And, John, we'll understand if your return tomorrow is delayed."

Knowing he'd never convince Teyla otherwise and glad that he hadn't indulged in any ruus wine earlier, John simply nodded his goodbye and headed for the jumper. He'd learned the hard way when to argue...and when to just suck it up and get it done.

Besides, his last set of bruises was still tender.

~*~*~

It was still relatively early when John walked into Rodney's lab and jolted to a halt at the sight of the unexpectedly empty space. Already irritated by his inability to decipher Teyla's cryptic comment, John struggled with his rising anger at Rodney's lie about working. Clenching his jaw until his teeth hurt, John stalked along the corridors to Rodney's room, determined to find out exactly what Rodney's problem was.

The five-minute walk was therapeutic and, by the time John was standing in front of Rodney's door, he had calmed down enough to rethink his strategy. Taking a deep breath, John used his override to force his way inside, not allowing Rodney any opportunity to avoid the confrontation.

Although he'd deliberately tried to keep his entrance quiet, John hadn't really expected to find Rodney asleep at his desk, his head nodding precariously just above his laptop's keyboard, his papers and manuals scattered everywhere, What was even more surprising was the datapad propped up off to the side, or rather, what was visible on the datapad.

Closing the distance between them, John froze in place behind his sleeping friend, fascinated by the images cycling across the screen. They were pictures of John, no one else, just him. Not only the pictures Rodney had taken at Christmas, but also others that he'd never seen before, hadn't known existed. He was standing on a balcony, the wind in his hair, his eyes trained on the distance; in the gym holding his bantos rods, most likely talking to Teyla, who was outside the frame. Another shot showed him coming out of the jumper, a grin across his face; another drinking water after a run, sweat running down the side of his face and darkening the collar of his t-shirt.

The number of photos appeared to be limitless, picture after picture, and John began to notice that they weren't all pretty, that Rodney had included more than one where John was injured or sad or even grim. As he watched his face changing again and again, John suddenly understood that Rodney...Mer...saw _all_ of him, not just the polite mask John wore when a camera pointed in his direction. The datapad's screensaver hadn't been built to lure in women with cute and cuddly...it was Mer's private, eyes-only collection.

John wondered if it could also be considered proof of an obsession.

Watching silently, a few steps behind Rodney's chair, John thought about how easily he could leave. Rodney would never find out that his secret had been discovered, everything would go on just as before. John could keep on pretending that he was Rodney's _friend_, but then he'd be giving up his chance at a different sort of life with Mer, the kind he'd stopped believing in long ago.

While John weighed the risks against the rewards, Rodney jerked awake, rubbing his face with a little groan. Still oblivious to John's presence, Rodney reached for the datapad and pulled it close without deactivating the screensaver. With a heavy sigh, he froze the slideshow on a single frame, tracing above the lines of John's smiling face with an ink-stained finger.

John decided someone else would be picking up Teyla and Ronon from the mainland.

"Mer."

~*~*~

John wasn't sure if it was the cold spot on the shoulder that Rodney was no longer warming, or an almost imperceptible 'click,' but suddenly he was most definitely awake. He was also very naked, sticky, and happily alert, at least as far as certain portions of his anatomy were concerned. It wasn't until the alone aspect penetrated his sleep-fuddled brain that his contentment began to fade.

To make matters even more interesting, the sun slanting through the window was bright enough to encourage John to keep his eyes almost completely closed and limit himself to quick glances beneath his lashes.

"Mer?"

"Mmmm-hmm, right here." The answer was drifty, potentially absent-minded, and John suspected was due to at least one laptop in use.

John's lips twitched into an automatic pout, and he let the slightest hint of a whine creep into his voice. "You'd better not be working. Elizabeth declared today a rest day, and you promised. The last one you spent fishing with Carson on the mainland, instead of golfing with me and Ronon."

"No, not working, just sending out another reminder not to turn on any machines found in unexplored labs until they've been checked in the database. Do I really need to remind you how lucky we were that Watson and Hewston weren't able to activate that exploding tumor generator last month? There are times I think the Ancients were certifiably insane."

John shuddered at a nightmare flash of Carson removing a ticking organic bomb from a hapless scientist. Shoving the ghoulish thought away, John persisted, "Still sounds like working to me."

His answer was a huffed, "If your eyes were actually open, you'd see I couldn't possibly be performing anything even approximating work. I've never been one for Coed Naked Physics."

"So why aren't you naked _here_, instead?" John stretched and shifted to make room on the prescription mattress, patting the rumpled sheet next to him and trying out a come-hither smile.

The snick of a laptop closing and the desk chair rolling signaled at least partial success, but Rodney failed to appear next to John. Grumbling in frustration, John twisted enough to see Rodney standing a few feet away, camera in hand and crooked smile in place as he snapped away.

Deciding to play along, John licked his lips and slid his hand under the sheet crumpled at his waist, biting his lower lip as he arched his back with a moan. "I'm demanding a fifty percent share of the net on your new screensaver, _Atlantis After Dark_. After all, my career as military commander of Atlantis will be pretty much over if anyone else gets hold of those." He teased himself slowly under the sheet, well aware that he enticed Rodney closer with every concealed stroke.

As soon as Rodney was near enough, John lunged and toppled him to the bed, laughing at Rodney's warnings of bad backs and bruises. Flipping Rodney onto his much-abused back, John straddled his hips and wrestled the camera away from him.

Crossing his arms with an exaggerated scowl, Rodney warned, "You'd better not erase those, John."

John played along with Rodney, growling, "Editorial privilege, Mer. Let me see what you got."

When he thinks about it, John is still amazed at how many pictures Rodney had managed to take without John's knowledge, but he'd never asked Rodney to delete any of them, even the most embarrassing. Scanning through the latest set, he failed to suppress a smile because Rodney hadn't captured anything below the neck, ignoring John's provocative poses to focus on his favorite subject, John's face. John had no problem deciding that he wouldn't be deleting this set, either. The expressions Rodney had captured held something too often missing from John's pictures since his mother had died.

Happiness.

Smiling down at Rodney..._Mer_...as he waited with moderate patience for John to finish, primed with his crooked smile that promised the finest pleasures and always delivered, John wondered once again how he'd managed to end up with everything he'd ever wanted.

Recalling the proverb about a thousand words, John thought about a man that had never felt the need to document his life, raised the camera cradled in his hand...and took a picture.

fin

***

Czech translation: Neprekvapi = No surprise

 

**Altered Timeline for Screen Savor AU**

There were several points when certain decisions resulted in significant changes.

1\. Carson did not continue his work on the retrovirus after Sheppard's narrow escape from death.  
a. Carson never created Michael.   
b. Micheal's hybrids didn't kill the Taranians.  
c. Michael didn't clone Carson.  
d. Michael didn't capture Teyla.  
e. John didn't go through a wormhole and end up in the future while looking for Teyla.  
f. Wraith treaties for retrovirus development and distribution never happened.

2\. Using defeated Asurans' ZPMs, Atlantis moved to secret location (with the Athosians).   
a. The Asurans didn't attack Atlantis with an energy beam.  
b. The Asurans didn't injure or capture Elizabeth.  
c. Sam Carter never replaced Elizabeth, although Shen Xiaoyi eventually took over as governor.

3\. Watson and Hewston didn't activate the exploding tumor generator.  
a. Carson didn't die.  
b. Keller never replaced Carson or spent a significant amount of time with Rodney.

4\. Devlin Technologies never worked with nanite technology and Patrick Sheppard didn't die.  
a. Jeannie was never infected with nanites.  
b. Sheppard and Ronon never fought replicators on Earth.

**Author's Note:**

> Entry in unamaga and chopchica's [McShep Happyfic Challenge](http://unamaga.livejournal.com/268568.html#cutid1) which required a minimum of 7500 words. It turned out to be surprisingly difficult writing that length and staying within canon as much as possible. AU's are _much_ easier. (No, the title is NOT misspelled. John is American and leaves that pesky 'u' out of savour. *grin*)


End file.
